I must begin with a caveat we’ll call “truth in advertising.” My upbringing branded me on the tongue, and although I lack my father’s drawl, I seriously doubt that anyone mistakes me for a Yankee. In case I’m wrong, I’ve worn the correct color and the tartan I share with John C. Calhoun. I’ll also remind you of my bio and relate a story. I’m a Southerner born, bred, and educated, never living farther north than Louisville, Kentucky, for any length of time. I’m also just four generations and less than a century removed from what folks still referred to in my childhood as either “The Late (some said “Recent”) Unpleasantness” or “The War Between the States.” They used both terms advisedly, but also in an unconscious eloquence born of human mem...